Making A List
by Just-Like-Ginny
Summary: It's Christmas two years after the war ended. Almost everyone is settled, but they have not forgotten.


Ginny walks through the door and drops her broom on the ground in front of the door. She smells smoke coming from the kitchen and rushes in. "Harry? What are you doing?"

Harry glances over, but quickly brings his hand to his mouth, obviously trying to heal a burn. He turns to look at Ginny. "I was trying to make a pie to bring to the burrow." Looking at the hard, black, not-edible failure in the oven, he sighs. "Apparently it wasn't a very good idea." Ginny runs over, grabbing a wet clothe from the counter and holding it to Harry's burnt finger. "Well, we certainly can't bring this tonight." Ginny shakes her head with a laugh and helps him clean the oven and area around it. "So, I heard you won your game."

Ginny sighs, letting her feet give out, tossing her to the ground. "Yeah. No thanks to the team. We were down by a hundred and twenty points when I caught the snitch."

Harry stops cleaning to pull her up off the ground. He wraps his arms around her, pushing her into the counter. "Well, then they're lucky they have you." He pushes a strand of her hair behind her ear, exposing her neck. "Almost as lucky as I am." She rests her arms onto his shoulders, and leans toward him for a strong kiss. He pulls away with a smirk. "I mean I would never be able to fix this Christmas pie without you."

Ginny pushes him away playfully. "And you actually sounded sweet for a second, too." She turns to continue working, but, ignoring her comment, Harry places his hands around her waist and kisses her neck. "What are you doing home so early, anyway?"

"It's Christmas Eve. I didn't exactly need to Crucio someone to get off a little early."

She turns to face him, smirking. "Is the legendary Harry Potter getting some special treatment?" He scrunches his eyebrows as if in pain, and opens his mouth to talk, but she places her hand over his mouth. "It was a joke. I know you weren't the only one to get off early today." Harry gives her a doubtful look, but pushes it aside quickly. They don't need a fight on Christmas Eve.

"Well I still don't get how they could make you play today."

"What's Christmas without Quidditch?"

"Normal?"

She rolls her eyes at his ignorance. "If I remember correctly, Quidditch was all you cared about back at Hogwarts." She's now out of his arms, and leans down to resume cleaning. "I mean you were undefeated. I was sure you were going to be a seeker long after you left."

A deep breath escapes from his mouth as he collapses onto the ground beside her. "Yeah, well a lot's happened since then." Lightly touching his old scar, he continues. "And I was only undefeated the times I was able to stay on my broom and not manage to get myself in detention or expelled from Quidditch altogether."

Lying on the ground, Ginny lays her head on Harry's lap, looking up into his seaweed green eyes. "You had a lot working against you."

"Are you trying to get me to join a team or something?"

Laughing, she shakes her head. "And risk ruining my perfect record? No thanks." She takes his hand into hers, studying his palm and falling into an entire world of her own. "Just reminiscing, I guess."

Harry grabs the floo powder as Ginny picks up the old muffin he had charmed into an abnormally large, fresh pecan pie. They step into the fireplace together, when a sudden _pop_ grabs their attention before they can name their destination.

Hermione stands before them, looking jittery and nervous. Ginny leaps from the small brick inlet toward her best friend. "Hermione, what's wrong? Did you and Ron have a fight?"

Hermione pulls away from her friend. "You go ahead, Gin. I need to talk to Harry." She glances at the empty floo barrel. "We'll apparate there in a few minutes."

Ginny looks toward Harry, who shudders at the thought of having to apparate. He's hated it since the moment he learned how to do it. "Go on, Ginny. We'll be right there."

With her husband's permission, Ginny takes the last of their floor powder from Harry's hand, mumbles a quick "burrow" and disappears into green flames.

After watching his wife leave, Harry turns to Hermione, concerned. "Is everything alright?"

"Are you nervous?" It just bursts right out of her mouth, all her emotion and pleading eyes behind it.

"Why would I be nervous?" He notices her eyes are wet, as if she's been holding back tears.

"It's our first holiday with the family!"

"What are you talking about? We've gone to the burrow for Christmas ever since our second year at Hogwarts."

"Yeah, but we were always guests then." She slowly approaches Harry's couch and sits softly. Only Hermione could look such a mess, yet sit with such poise and great posture. "We're family now. There are—" she looks up at him from her hands, "expectations."

"Hermione," Harry sits next to her on the couch, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, "we've been a part of the Weasley family for a long time. The only difference is now there's a piece of paper to prove it."

Hermione sighs, laughing at her melodramatic self. "I'm such a bloody coward."

"You're not a coward. You just got back from your honeymoon three days ago. I know when Ginny and I got back, I was going bonkers over the idea of everyone knowing for sure we had—" She looks at him awkwardly, and he pushes the subject away. "There's nothing to worry about. It's your family. It's _our_ family."

Hermione dabs at her eyes with her sleeve and stands abruptly. "Well, we'd better get there before another locket attempts to convince Ron there's something between us," she states, gesturing between Harry and herself. Harry is surprised to hear that Ron even told her about that, but once they were engaged, it could easily have been something to laugh about.

Harry stands besides her, holding a hand out for her to grab. "You do it. I still get sick doing it myself." She rolls her eyes and places her hand on top of his. The sick feeling returns to Harry as the world blurs around him. The next thing he knows, the pair has arrived at the front door of the old Weasley home and is ready to go in.

Hermione freezes as Harry lifts his hand to knock. "Breathe," he whispers into her ear, and takes her hand into his.

Listening to her old friend, Hermione closes her eyes and breathes in deeply, before letting the breath out. Her eyes open as she hears the door in front of her creak open and sees Bill's smiling face in front of them, holding newly born Victiore Weasley in his arms. Hermione immediately gasps and reaches for the strawberry blonde's little hands. Harry hugs Bill and little Teddy waddles over and lifts his hands for Harry to pick him up. Harry ruffles his deep blue hair before lifting him up and swirling him around. "Good to see you, champ."

"You act as if you hadn't seen him just yesterday." Ginny rounds the corner, walking toward him. She kisses him on the cheek, and whispers in his ear. "Is everything okay?"

Harry turns Teddy around and places him onto his shoulders as Molly Weasley turns the corner. "Perfect."

"Oh, Harry, dear. Hermione. You're here." She gives Hermione and Harry both kisses on the cheeks and squeezes Teddy's. "Come in, come in. Supper's almost ready." Teddy rubs his skin where Molly has squeezed and they all walk toward the kitchen, which has been enlarged by an extender charm for the occasion. "Rooming will be a little different this year, of course," she says as she finishes her cooking. Harry laughs at how easy she makes it seem. "Hermione and Harry—you'll be switching. That is, Harry and Ginny in her old room, and Hermione and Ron in his." Harry glances at Hermione, who looks a bit green in the face. "But I'm sure the four of you will be up gabbing together for most of the night, anyway." Hermione catches Harry's eye and nods, realizing it really is hardly different than ever.

"Grams," Teddy pokes Andremeda in the side. "Do I have to sit next to Victiore?" He lifts his hand to his nose. "She smells like baby poo." The group laughs, but Victiore starts sobbing, as if she understood the insult. Victiore reaches across Bill to lift her daughter from her chair and places the squirming baby on her lap.

A gasp echoes from the other side of the table as Megan reaches for her enlarged stomach. "Sorry," she giggles, looking around at all the fearful faces, "the baby kicked." George places a soft hand on his wife's stomach. "Right here." She picks up his hand, and places it where hers had just been. After a moment of concentration, they smile sweetly at each other.

"'Av you thought uv a name for ze leetle vun yet?" Fleur asks, holding a bottle to her own daughter's mouth.

"If it's a girl," Megan begins, looking toward George, "we're deciding between Shannon and Caroline."

"And if eets a boy?"

"Fred," George responds plainly, watching his mother, whose eyes fill with tears of both loss and happiness, "of course."

Molly raises her glass, wipes a tear from her eyes, and looks around the room at her family. "I'd like to toast to all that were lost in the battle against Voldemort."

"Fred Weasley." Gearge rubs his muggle wife's stomach.

"Roger Monnetelli," Percy's wife, Patty, says, remembering her brother, lost during Voldemort's rise.

"Albus Dumbledore," Percy adds with slight embarrassment. He never got over his stupidity in believing Dumbledore was trying to become Minister.

"James Potter."

"Lily Potter." Both of the eldest Weasley parents look to Harry as they speak the names.

"Theodore Tonks," Andremeda wipes her eyes as she says her late husband's name.

"Remus Lupin," Bill looks between Harry and Andremeda as he speaks.

Fleur looks down at her plate as she adds, "Cedric Diggory."

"Alastor Moody." Charlie says it with pride, realizing the honor of the simple name.

Ron gives a half grin to his best friend, as he adds a "Sirius Black."

"Nymphadora Tonks." Hermione takes Ron's hand and shifts her eyes to Andremeda, who gives her a simple nod and a sad smile.

"Colin Creevey," Ginny adds, remembering the youngest of those lost in the long battle.

It does not take long for Harry to catch who is missing from the list, "and Severus Snape." The group exchanges small smiles, each recounting different memories from their pasts with those lost. Each raises a glass, and takes a small sip. Harry silently adds Dobby and Hedwig as he drinks, knowing he'll mention them to his friends later.

"Feels almost like when we used to stay up in the common room while everyone else was asleep," Ginny says, sliding back into her spot between Harry's crossed legs in the floor under the tree. She hands him a hot chocolate and stares up at the shining lights.

"Yeah," Harry adds, and looks to the couples a few feet away, "except those two aren't sitting on opposite sides of the room, pretending not to be in love."

Hermione looks up from her position lying across Ron's legs to give Harry a dirty look. "Don't be so hypocritical, Harry."

"That was different!" Harry responds, defensively. "I broke up with her to try to protect her. I never said I didn't—"

"I mean before then. Before you got together. You were denying it for months."

Harry looks up, red-faced. "How did you—"

Hermione rolls her eyes and lies back down on Ron's legs. "I basically set you two up, remember?"

"She's just brilliant." Ron says, rubbing Hermione's head. The clock chimes, letting them know it's midnight. Dozens of presents appear under the tree, and the four friends need to stand and back away before being buried in gifts. "Happy Christmas." Ron lays his hands on Hermione's shoulders.

"Happy Christmas," all three respond, staring at the tree again, now overpowered by the presents beneath it. Hermione turns to walk toward her and Ron's room, Ron following, his hands still on her shoulders. Harry kisses the top of Ginny's hand, and holds it tightly as they walk to her childhood bedroom.


End file.
